


Something Old, Something New

by thankyouturtle



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Reunions, Weddings, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouturtle/pseuds/thankyouturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With old friends back in Stoneybrook for a wedding, it's the perfect time for Abby to catch up with her former BSC buddies. Or would be, if Kristy didn't seem to be avoiding her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Old, Something New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizwontcry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/gifts).



It was a good thing I’d borrowed my sister’s car for the trip to the airport. It’s roomy – roomy enough to carry the instruments of all four member of her string quartet – and was therefore roomy enough to carry all three of the suitcases belonging to Claudia Kishi which she seemed to have felt the need to bring back to Stoneybrook with her.

“You’re only here for a _fortnight_ , Kishi,” I pointed out as I hugged her hello.

“Only two of the suitcases are mine,” she replied, as though a suitcase per week was perfectly normal for travel. “The other one’s for Mary Anne.”

“When you say it’s for Mary Anne-“

“Abby, please. I’m a professional. I know it’s only a small scale, local wedding, but that doesn’t mean that her stylist won’t cancel on the day, her dress won’t be unfinished, her flowers won’t be undelivered, and she won’t remember an hour before the wedding that she’s not got something old, new, borrowed _or_ blue.”

I gave up, and helped Claud load the cases into the car. She probably did know what she was talking about, since she _is_ a wedding planner. When we were younger, she’d wanted to be an artist; now she's throwing that creativity into designing beautiful weddings for other people. She's even starting to make a name for herself, pretty impressive when you considered that she was only just 28.

“Anyway,” she added, a little self-consciously. “Kristy asked me to.”

“I’d have been shocked if she hadn’t,” I replied, grinning. Kristy is-

Hang on, I’d better start at the beginning. My family moved to Stoneybrook, Connecticut, when I was 13, after my Dad died. I pretty quickly met a girl in my neighborhood named Kristy Thomas, who was loud and bossy and annoying and probably one of the best friends I’ve ever had, excepting my twin sister. She ran a club for baby-sitters, which is where I met Claudia, and Mary Anne, and a bunch of other girls – a nice group of ready-made friends for the new kid in town. Now Mary Anne, who’s known Kristy since they were both in diapers, was getting married to Kristy’s brother, and given how much Kristy cares for both of them there was no way she was going to let anything stand in their way of a perfect day. She’d even done an unprecedented thing, and taken _time off work_ to come home and make sure everything was running smoothly.

It was nice to see her again - things hadn’t been quite the same since she left Stoneybrook. But then, she'd been so busy running around making sure everything was perfect that I'd barely had time to see her.

During the drive, Claud and I got talking about work. Her latest triumph had been a wedding which was entirely free-trade and organic. “I swear, I ate the world’s biggest cheeseburger when it was done,” she told me. As for me, I’d recently decided to take the detective’s exam, and although I was trying not to make it into a big deal, I was actually pretty excited.

“That’s _so_ cool,” she enthused, reaching into her purse and pulling out a packet of M &Ms. “Does that mean you’ll be solving murders?”

“Not a lot of those around Stoneybrook,” I pointed out. “But if I pass the exam and someone gets murdered then – yeah, I would be.”

“I’m staying with my parents for two weeks,” she said darkly. “There might be a murder very soon.”

Before long we were at her old house, and her father appeared to give us a hand with the luggage. He didn’t even say a word when he saw there were three cases. Maybe he was just happy there weren’t four. Despite her grumblings, Claudia enveloped him in a massive hug, which he returned. “We’ll talk properly tonight,” he told her. “Mary Anne just called asking if you’d go and see her as soon as possible.”

This meant reloading the third suitcase into the car, and heading to the Spier-Schafer house. Although Mary Anne and Charlie were sharing an apartment just outside of Stamford, her father’s house had become Wedding HQ, not least because that was where the reception was to be held. It’s a pretty amazing place, actually. Mary Anne’s dad and step-mother live in a converted barn; the house itself burned down when we were in middle school. Now where the house stood is a gorgeous garden, which Mary Anne had put a lot of time into herself. She's always liked gardening.

We arrived to find Sharon, Mary-Anne’s step-mom, looking anxious, although she smiled as she let us in. “She had her hair cut this morning and she hates it,” she whispered to us. “Claudia, do you think-“

“I’m on it,” Claudia promised, and disappeared towards Mary Anne’s old bedroom. Knowing I wouldn’t be any use in that department, I asked Sharon if there was anything else I could do. Her face brightened immediately. “The others are making up favor bags in the kitchen,” she said. “I don’t suppose…?”

The others turned out to be Kristy, and Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike, sitting around the kitchen table. Jessi and Mal both greeted me with enthusiasm, but Kristy, after saying hi, said something about needing to pick up the bridesmaids dresses and hurried out. For a moment, I wondered if I’d done something wrong, but then I was distracted by the other two and forgot about it – for the moment. Jessi and Mal are both fellow Baby-Sitters Club alumni, although they were actually a couple of years below me at school. Jessi was now doing exactly what we had always expected her to do – dance. She’s an incredibly talented ballet dancer, although recently her company had performed a one act ballet that she had choreographed as part of a triple bill – I went to New York to see it – so maybe her interests are drifting from the performance side. As for Mal, I think she must be the most changed of anyone of our group. She had it pretty rough at middle school – worse than Jessi, even, who was one of the very few black girls at our school. Mal was bullied so badly she ended up leaving Stoneybrook altogether, for a girls' boarding school. Now she stands tall, her red hair in a messy but glorious heap above her head, her trendy looking glasses a point of pride rather than shame. Just now, she was working in a lowly job at a large publishing house, but she’d just had one of her own short stories published in an anthology for teens. It wasn’t quite what she’d always wanted, but she was on her way and she knew it.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Jessi said dramatically. “It feels like we’ve been stuffing bags all morning and we’re only up to fifty.”

“I thought it was supposed to be a small wedding?” I asked, settling in to the task at hand.

“One hundred and fifty guests.” Mallory articulated every syllable. “Who said anything about small?”

“Claudia. I guess that _is_ small for her, now that I think about it.”

There was silence for a moment, and a feeling of awkwardness descended, the way it sometimes does when you’re trying to think of something to say to people you haven’t really talked to in a long while. Then Jessi said, “Did you hear about that cannibal who had a wife and eight kids?” and Mal and I both groaned loudly, and the moment passed.

“So,” I said, “you two crazy kids aren’t thinking of matrimonial bliss just yet?” Mal reached over and squeezed Jessi’s hand.

“Neither of think it’s that important right now,” she explained. “Maybe later, but maybe not.”

“At least our parents don’t expect it,” Jessi added feelingly. “My friend Quint’s mom’s always dropping hints about how it would be nice to have grandkids before she’s too old to enjoy them, and he's single - and doesn't want kids anyway.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’ve already had kids.” Mal made a face. “All that time I spent looking after my brothers and sisters.” She looked at me curiously. “What about you? If you don’t mind me asking,” she added hurriedly.

“Forever single,” I said cheerfully. “Being a cop can put people off. Or attract the wrong kind of people, if you know what I mean.”

Thankfully, the subject was dropped, and we busied ourselves filling the small plastic bags with chocolates and cards until Claudia and Mary Anne appeared on the scene. Mary Anne – whose hair looked perfectly normal to me, incidentally – looked as though she had been crying, and as she saw us her eyes filled up again.

“You guys…” she began, stopping to sniff.

“I thought most brides waited until the actual day to cry,” I said, pulling out a chair invitingly. Mary Anne sniffed again and gave me a watery smile.

“ _So_ not the case,” Claudia the expert informed me. “I had one bride who cried every day leading up to the wedding. Of course, she didn’t actually turn up on the day.”

The look of unsuppressed horror on Mary Anne’s face made us all laugh, which she joined in when she realized Claudia was just teasing her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I promised Charlie I wouldn’t turn into one of those bridezillas, but-”

“Mary Anne, it’s _you_ ,” I told her. “If you didn’t cry a little he’d think he was marrying the wrong person.”

She laughed again, and settled in to help us with the bags. After a little while, Sharon came through with two boxes of vegetarian pizza, and we had soon abandoned the favors in favor (ha!) of greasy fingers and cheesy goodness. “This is nice,” Mary Anne said, a little wistfully. “I wish all of us were together more often. Kristy said something about organizing a BSC reunion some time, but I suppose it’s too hard to get everyone in the same place at the same time.”

“Mmmm,” I agreed, my mouth full of pizza, and carefully didn’t catch Mal or Jessi’s eyes.

***

After lunch I drove to my sister’s, returning her car and picking up my own second-hand mini to go and visit Mom. I usually did on a Saturday afternoon when I wasn’t working. We’re not the most religious of families, really, but there was something about Saturdays which will always feel very family-ish to me. I think Mom must feel the same way; when I arrived she had an album of photos out, mostly of Anna and me during high school, her performing, me playing sports, and both of us hanging out with our friends.

“I love this picture,” she said as I sat down on the couch beside her. She was pointing at a photo of me and Kristy, holding up a debating trophy and mock-glaring at each other. We’d actually been on the same team for the debate, although we’d still done plenty of arguing while preparing for it. “She asked for a copy of it when she was around earlier.”

“Kristy was around earlier?”

“Yes, looking for you. She thought you’d be back from the Spiers' by then, but she said she’d see you later.” Huh. Weird. If she wanted to see me then why hadn’t she just talked to me earlier?

“This one too,” Mom said, now flipping through to the pictures of our graduation. That one she liked was me posing with Kristy, Mary Anne, Claudia, and Stacey McGill. “Has Stacey arrived yet?”

“This afternoon,” I said, studying the photo. It was funny, how well it seemed to catch the look of each of my old friends. Kristy looked inordinately pleased with herself, with one arm slung around Mary Anne’s shoulders and the other reaching up to tug off Claudia’s graduation cap. Claud was staring straight at the camera, smiling, unaware of Kristy’s intentions, her demure appearance belied by the bright yellow pumps on her feet . Mary Anne’s shoulders were raised and her head was ducked – she was trying not to laugh at something. On her other side, I was looking sideways at Mary Anne, one hand raised to make bunny ears behind her head like the completely mature teenager I was. And on the other end of the group, Stacey, hair perfectly curled, face perfectly made up, body in a relaxed attitude which proclaimed she knew how to pose for photos far better than the rest of us. Maybe Mallory wasn’t the most changed of us; I’d certainly not have expected the cool and sophisticated Stacey to be the first one of our group to have a kid.

“What made you dig this out?” I wanted to know.

“Mary Anne’s wedding, I suppose,” Mom replied. “It makes me feel old, you girls settling down.”

I laughed. “Mary Anne and Stacey are the only ones who have. Well – and Jessi and Mal, I guess. I wouldn’t call any of the rest of us settled.”

“Not even Dawn?”

“ _Especially_ not Dawn.” Back in the sixties, Mary Anne’s step-sister would have been a hippy. Today she was a – well, a greenie I supposed, although that hardly covered it. She was vegan, and when she was at home lived in a completely solar-powered house in California with her current actress girlfriend. When she wasn’t at home, which was most of the time, she was out protesting against pollution, or saving the wales, or freeing farm animals. It’s not that I disagreed with any of her causes, but she was a little hard to talk to about anything that _wasn’t_ one of her causes. She was even going to be missing the wedding as she was off on a Greenpeace ship somewhere in the Arctic.

We finished looking at the album and started talking about other things – my upcoming exam, Anna’s upcoming move to Stamford, where she was going to do a Master’s degree in music. Time passed quickly, and I probably would have been running late if there hadn’t been a knock on the door. I opened it to find Kristy standing there.

“Oh good,” she said, not even saying hello. “You’re still here. Charlie’s giving us a ride.”

“I was going to drive-“ I began, but she shook her head at me.

“She’ll suspect something if she sees our cars parked all up the street. It’s got to be a _complete_ surprise, Abby.”

I gave in, and when I saw Charlie waiting for us outside I did feel a weird thrill of nostalgia. “What did you want to see me about before?” I asked, as I climbed into the car.

“Oh - nothing important. Miss the Junk Bucket, Charlie?”

If it was nothing important, why bother coming to see me anyway? I sighed, and listened to what Charlie was saying. “I think if I’d still had the ol’ Junk Bucket Mary Anne would never have said yes. Not the right kind of wagon for a school teacher’s husband.” He glanced at me in the review mirror and grinned. “She said this morning she wished she had more time to see you all. It was all I could do to keep quiet.”

We arrived at Claudia’s parents place at 5.15pm. Claudia was on stand-by to let us in, which was just as well, because I think we might have automatically walked in without knocking otherwise. It also gave us the opportunity to stare at her. Usually, I’d say that Claudia’s dress sense had calmed down a little from when we were teenagers, but today she was wearing a pink and purple tie-dyed skater dress, with purple tights with daisies hand-painted on and bright pink sneakers. Keeping out the evening chill was a white cardigan with big, triangular purple buttons, and her long black hair was pulled into three plaits, each tied with a large pink bow. She grinned at us. “Just for old time’s sake,” she said.

When we got up to her old room we saw that everyone else was in a similar frame of mind. Jessi was in a leotard, leggings and ballet flats, even donning leg-warmers for the occasion. Mal had let her hair out and donned an over-sized grey jumper with a prancing white horse on it. And Stacey, who had left Ethan and little Claudia at her mother’s house, was wearing a pair of designer jeans and slim fitting blouse, with a gold necklace and dull red earrings which matched her lipstick finishing off the ensemble.

The three of them fell silent as we entered the room, their eyes expectantly on Kristy. Kristy glanced around, produced a visor, and sat on the director’s chair which stood by the bed. Then she burst out laughing. “Your faces!” she said. “You all look like it’s dues day!”

“Sh!” Claudia hissed. “I heard the door downstairs – Dad’s going to bring her up in a moment.”

We all sat still at that – and I swear that Mallory was holding her breath. Then the door swung open and Mary Anne stood there, staring in wonder. “You guys…”

“You’re _just_ in time, Mary Anne,” Kristy said ominously from her chair. Habitually, we all looked at the radio clock which stood on Claud’s old night stand, just ticking over to 5.30pm. Kristy cleared her throat. “I hereby call this meeting of the Baby-Sitter’s Club to order!” she declared, and Mary Anne burst into tears. She was smiling, though.

***

It wasn’t exactly like old times, although Claudia did produce a pack of Doritos and a packet of Kit Kats in a variety of unlikely flavors. For one thing, the phone didn’t ring once; for another, we weren’t discussing club business, but our adult lives. The wedding, of course, Stacey’s daughter, Jessi’s ballet, Kristy’s business ventures. Not everyone was there, either; as well as Dawn, we were missing Shannon Kilbourne, off studying marine biology in Australia, and Logan Bruno, who we’d all lost touch with after his family moved back to Kentucky in the tenth grade. But it was nice, and despite all the time that had gone by – I’d been what, almost 14 when I quit the club? – it felt _comfortable_. It was sad to think that after the wedding it would once more only be Mary Anne and me left in Stoneybrook, even if most of our friends were only an hour’s train ride away.

And then there was Kristy. She seemed to be busy talking to everyone except me, and when I tried to catch her eye she was looking everywhere but at me.

As soon as 6 o’clock Mary Anne reluctantly got up. “I’m having dinner with my grandmother tonight,” she said apologetically, then she smiled at Kristy. “Should I have let you say meeting adjourned?”

Mallory stood up too. “Do you know, I found my old kid kit yesterday, in Claire’s room. I couldn’t even name half of the toys that are in it – she must have used it when she started out baby-sitting, same as Vanessa and Margot."

“Ethan used to say that I knew more about babies than all our parenting guides put together.” Stacey stretched her arms out, suppressing a yawn. “But it was purely all the baby-sitting we’d done. It’s funny, the stuff that comes back to you.”

We drifted out of the Kishis’ in small groups. Apart from Kristy and me, everyone was staying within walking distance. I waited for her to finish chatting to Mrs Kishi about library funding – Claudia and me rolling our eyes at each other the whole time – before asking her how we were getting home. “Since I wasn’t allowed to drive here,” I added pointedly.

“I was just going to order a taxi,” she said. “But I thought we should go for a walk first.” She set off at a brisk pace away from the Kishi’s, and I had to jog to catch her again.

“Thomas, what in the world is going on? Did I do something to piss you off?”

To my surprise she cringed, then shook her head. “No, it’s not… Look, do you remember Michelle?”

“Michelle? No.”

"The French-Canadian guy I met when we were in France, back in middle school." Oh, _Michel_. Vaguely. “He was your first kiss, right? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I forgot you never really met Bart,” she murmured. “Yeah, him. You probably don’t remember, but you pretty much had to point out that I liked him before I realized I did.” I didn’t remember, particularly. Most of my memories of Paris are of me being allergic to things. Which is the story of my life, really. “And I haven’t got any better at emotions since then.”

“But what’s that got to do with me?” I asked, and then realized the answer. “Oh. Seriously? Me? I always figured your type was, you know. Male.”

The unnatural nervous look she’d been wearing lessened. “I’ve never been particularly bothered about guys _or_ girls. It was only maybe in the last couple of years that I figured out I had a crush on you through most of high school.”

“Are you kidding?” I burst out. “I had a crush on _you_ , Kristy. Do you remember when we spent the whole of Valentine’s Day together-”

“How could I forget? And then I figured that an ancient crush wasn’t really important, but when I came home last week and saw you again I just suddenly felt…” she trailed off and shrugged. We walked on in silence for a little while. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” she mumbled.

“Kristy, you should absolutely have said something,” I said. “I mean – I feel the same way, seeing you again. I know you’re going to leave again soon, but I _like_ you. I want to see you while you’re here. I want to know if we like each other enough to – to make something work, even with us living in different places.”

“Well,” she hesitated. “I did already make a list of weekends and holidays that I could come back to Stoneybrook for, and figure out a timetable of my projects that would mean that I wouldn’t have to be at the office every fourth week – I’d still need to _work_ , but I could do it from home.” Of _course_ she had.

“I should probably warn you,” I said, “that I am pretty much the best girlfriend in the world.” She raised her eyebrows at me.

“That sounds like a challenge, Stevenson.”

“Game on, Thomas.”

We exchanged the same mock-glare that we had all those years ago in that debate team photo, and I thought that this challenge might be the only one I wouldn’t mind losing to Kristy. _Probably_ , anyway.


End file.
